


The Secrets Inside Your Eyes

by Zinthr



Category: Homestuck
Genre: And it's pretty cute so i guess I'm okay with it, Body Horror, Domestic Fluff, Eldritch Rose, F/F, POV Kanaya Maryam, POV Second Person, Romantic Fluff, This was supposed to be porn, but then it turned into this fluffy bullshit, prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 16:36:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10643823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinthr/pseuds/Zinthr
Summary: Her eyes were large, and full of secrets that you could never know.In which Rose is an Elder One and Kanaya is a mere mortal troll who somehow got stuck in her dimension.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I like writing really prose-y porn okay, sue me. That’s what this was gonna be. I was gonna make it kinky but this came out instead, so...Idk. Wholesome void lesbians that love each other too much.

Her eyes are large, and full of secrets that you could never know. Her body is strange, moving and twisting in ways that used to leave you sickened, but now just look like home. Her skin is a much darker grey than you have seen on any troll, and she lacks even a hint of horns. 

Her eyes are large, and white like ghosts. Pale sparks burst from them when she is angry, a sign of a power too strong for you to comprehend. Her skin writhes with thousands of tentacles beneath it, and thick black Ichor sometimes pours from her mouth and nose, or any holes that the tentacles make when they burst free from their fleshy prison. 

 

Her eyes are large, and with them, she has seen your death. She tells you about what your life would have been like, had you never found her - about how the lives of your friends are going without you. She tell you that she knows when you will die, and cries acidic tears of white and purple as she says that there is no way she can stop it from coming, as hard as she will try. 

It has been a long time since you came here, by accident from that strange portal near your hive. You have no way to know how long, but it was long enough for you to fall hopelessly in love with this goddess of a woman, with all her terrifying features and strange languages. Long enough for you to learn so many of her words - those that you can actually hear when she says them, anyway - and long enough for her many-eyed demon cats to treat you like a second mother. She feeds you her Ichor to keep you healthy, and with it, you never need to eat or drink - which is a bit sad, if you’re being honest. You miss grub cake, and the fish sandwiches Feferi would sometimes send you. 

She tries to conjure food for you, sometimes, but it always ends up looking...sick, and corrupted. You dare not touch the oozing pustules on that bowl of soup, not after you ate that first piece of bread she made, back when you were new here. You shuddered to think of the roughly month-long hallucination high that followed, where everything seemed rainbow-tinted and the very air tasted like candy. That was back when you counted the hours and the days, hoping to preserve what you had left of your planet.

Now you mourn only the loss of your friendships, and the sunlight on your face. Too much time has come and gone for you to focus on things like hours or weeks, not when you have her by your side. 

Her name is long, and nearly impossible for you to pronounce - so you settled on a single syllable of it. 

You call her Rose, your dearest, your flower sweet. She was perplexed by your species naming conventions, at first, wonders why they’re all so short and non-threatening. But after a while she admitted to you that she quite likes the short name, and thinks of herself as just ‘Rose’ more often than her full name. 

She teaches you things no mortal is meant to know, and you tell her of things she can never experience. She tells you secrets of the universe, and how every one of your friends will die - you tell her about all the books and movies you’ve seen, all the romance plots and action scenes and the poetry in motion on the screen. She tells you about the galaxies and elder things, and all the strange universes she’s visited. You tell her about the feeling of wind in your hair, and of how many times you pricked your fingers making dresses that no one but you ever got to see. 

The two of you exist together happily, in the vaguely building-like home she put together so that you could have ground to walk on. One of the rooms is entirely cushion, and large enough to house the two of you easily, even when she is in her much larger forms. You wonder often if the roof is even real, but never bother to climb on something and check. 

You find yourself in the cushioned room now, drifting drearily in and out of sleep while Rose is away on some godly business in another realm. You never much like being here when she isn’t, but it’s not like you have much choice. You always make sure that all the curtains are drawn tight, when she’s gone, lest you see the black void that is outside the walls she made for you. The void has some kind of invisible floor, and is walkable - but it’s all such pitch black outside that you hate to look at it. When she’s here, with you, the void feels like an adventure - an unclaimed expanse, awaiting exploration. When you are alone, however, it seems much more sinister. A dark pit full of malicious intent, waiting for you to get lost and end up trapped, alone for all eternity, with nothing for your senses to interact with aside from your own body. 

You shudder and roll back over, staring pointedly away from the covered window. One of her cats comes over to you - you call this one Vodka Mewtini, for some reason or another - and curls up against your lower back, purring with all the force of a motor. You smile a bit and reach back to pat him on the head, careful of his spine-covered back and several wagging tentacle tails. These ‘cats’ surely are strange creatures. Another cat - this one you call Khoshekh - walks into the room and lays down a few feet from you. 

You are just beginning to doze off again, when the cats both stand up and bolt to the only door on the house. You sit up as well, groggy but already beginning to smile. Rose is home. You stretch and adjust your skirt as you hear her greeting the cats. She has only recently begun to call them by the names you suggest, having never thought to name them before. She told you something about names having great power, and great power is something most fear giving to a cat - but you shrugged her off, and named them anyway. They all seem to enjoy having names, and Rose, though won't admit it yet, likes calling to them in cutesy voices when she thinks you can’t hear her. 

“Hello, Kanaya, my sweet.” Rose says to you as she enters the room, purple-lipped smile on her face. Her expression is cool but her eyes send of small sparks in excitement as she sees you, and the skin on her arms begins to stretch and writhe. She’s definitely happy to be home. “I brought you a present, my love.” She says, as she reaches into the waistband of her skirt. 

You raise an eyebrow at her. “That’s...foreword. I don’t get a kiss first?” 

She laughs, shaking her head at you. Her laugh is loud, and makes the chandelier shake. It sounds almost like seven voices in one, when she laughs - but she always has a strange echo when she talks, so you may be imagining things. She pulls something green out of her skirt, then something red. More and more things she pulls out, and you soon begin to recognize them as large spools of fabric. She then pulls out a large, semi-transparent box filled with sewing supplies. “I know you love making clothing, so...I set up a meeting for these. I hope that they are to your liking?” She says, almost shy in the way she looks down as she speaks, as if fearing your disapproval. 

You gasp and nod quickly, a hand over your face. “For...These are for me?” You question in disbelief, before jumping up. You’ve only just taken your first step in running towards her when tentacles have wrapped around your ankles and tripped you, and you’re falling but she catches you, and you honestly couldn’t give this up for all the sunlight and grub-cakes in the universe. She lowers you to the pillowed ground as gently as an over-excited eldritch horror can, and makes baritone chirping noises so deep that they too make the chandelier shake, and all the lights flicker with each excited chirp. 

She wraps her arms around you and it feels more like home than your hive ever did. She’s behind you, the big spoon despite being currently shorter than you. She grips you tightly around the waist and buries her face in the crook of your neck, murmuring things that you can't understand. You can feel her arms and legs writhing, the flesh bulging out with the thick, excited tentacles beneath. You relax back against her and clutch one of her hands. 

You feel the hot wetness of her ichor as smallish tentacles break free from the skin of her wrist. They wrap around your hand, curling between your fingers and gently squeezing. They are strong and smooth, leaving trails of thick black blood along your hand. You squeeze back, pulling the two grasped hands up to your face to pepper kisses along her tentacles. She rumbles, something almost like a purr - the sound echoes in the near empty room. You chirrup and purr back, holding her arm tightly to your chest. 

The two of you settle in like that, the only sound for the next several hours your combined purring as you drift in and out of sleep. She does not sleep - she never has, you think - but she watches you as you do. It was creepy at first, you won't lie - waking up to this monster you had just met watching you, staring unblinking at your sleeping form. But you’d taught her how to blink like mortals do, so it looks far less concerning - and now that you know her, it makes you feel safe when you feel her gaze. 

“Kanaya?” Rose asks, some time later, after you've slept and woken several times. She’s trailing her fingers along your hip, tracing abstract shapes onto the soft fabric of your skirt. She pauses and lifts her arm as you shift and begin to roll over, feeling several tentacles unwrap from your legs as you move. You settle back down facing her, noses just barely touching. 

“Yes, dear?” You say, re-tangling your fingers with hers and giving a gentle squeeze. Her purr starts up again, and she nuzzles your nose and kisses your forehead, leaving tiny wet spots from the small dots of black ichor that have slipped from between her lips. 

“What is it like, to dream? What do you see from behind closed eyes, blanketed in the warm embrace of semi-death that only mortals and cats are brave - or stupid - enough to tread?” Rose asks, kissing both of your cheeks. You chuckle, and bump your forehead against hers. Ahh, this again - she’s asked you before, several times, but still always wants to know more. She knows things about dreams, yes, but nothing of dreaming - has confessed that she longs to feel the soft haze and strange laws of the dream world. 

You know that what she wants, right now, is a story. 

“Just now, I was dreaming of my old life. Of my friends and my hive, and a trip to the beach. I saw Feferi and Eridan, swimming, although Eridan had a third fin on his forehead for some reason.” You pause and giggle, just now realizing the absurdity of it. “Vriska was there. She was building a giant sand dragon with Terezi, but Nepeta kept knocking it over. Whenever they’d try to chase Nepeta away or hit her with something, Equius would rise out of the sand with a water gun filled with questionable milk and try and squirt them with it, so they had to leave Nepeta alone. It was...strange, but humerus.” 

Rose listens intently, looking almost too serious for the level of ridiculousness in your story. She traces patterns on your back as she listens, pressing her head under your chin and against your neck. “Your friends are...interesting, dearest.” She murmurs after a while, pressing soft kisses to the column of your throat. 

Rose leans back and looks you in the eyes with a mischievous smile, sparks drifting down from her face. You grin and quickly lean forward, blowing a raspberry on her neck. She laughs, wholehearted and beautiful, and rolls away from you, jumping up and taking off. You scramble to your feet to give chase, laughing all the while. 

There are secrets, in her eyes - strange and terrible secrets - but that's all right. You have all the time in the world, and not a single place you’d rather be than right here, with her.

**Author's Note:**

> Me, actually finishing a non-porn fic? A miracle. 
> 
> Anyway, shout at me over on my tumblr, PaintedDoll.


End file.
